


late night rendezvous

by thanatopis



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hotel Sex, M/M, They Might Just Like Each Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8791249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: “Persistent boy, isn’t he?” Johan murmurs knowingly over the rim of his cappuccino cup.





	

**Author's Note:**

> pretty much an excuse to write these boys gettin' it on

It’s almost like JJ purposely forgets Chris isn’t trying to talk to him during Cup of China. He’s texting in outrageous bouts, frequent enough that Johan gives him _the look_ above his red eyeglass during dinner. Chris will admit, _it is_ mildly embarrassing whenever his phone goes off and makes their dinner table vibrate slightly.

“Persistent boy, isn’t he?” Johan murmurs knowingly over the rim of his cappuccino cup. An espresso night-cap to top off the evening after a grueling day of competition and stress. Caffeine and alcohol are off the table for Chris sadly; if there’s one thing Johan is strict about, it’s what Chris puts into his body a night before an important competition.

One event down, one more to go.

Chris is looking forward to the small break before Trophée de France, where he’ll make up that quadruple lutz he under rotated in his short program and easily claim the gold and his spot as one of the finalist in the Grand Prix.

“Persistent is _definitely_ a word for it...” Chris teases, sparing a fleeting glance at the screen of his phone where he’s racked up a fair amount of messages from a skater currently half way across the world. He slides it into his pants pocket so that it won’t disturb the table. “Although, personally, I think he’s just a nineteen year old boy who’s horny and happens to know that I’m easy.”

It’s worth the scolding Chris knows he’s going to get from Johan when the mouthful of his cappuccino shoots out of his nose at a projectile impressive enough to have Chris rearing back in mortified delight.

Chris laughs so hard that tears start to form at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill.

His only regret is that he didn’t take a picture.

* * *

His curiosity wins in the end.

In truth, Chris knows better, but it’s hard to resist what the heart wants.

Chris checks his messages right before he lays down for bed. He has no intention on responding back, but it’s still amusing to read the array of messages JJ leaves him. Chris skims them with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, stifling the grin trying to make its way through. He likes being someone who’s not so easily assessable to Jean-Jacques Leroy--wants to make him work for his full attention, just a _little_ bit.

Chris snorts softly as he reads only the beginnings of the message thread:

 

> watching ur SP on the stream.
> 
>  
> 
> nice ass. i miss touching it :(
> 
>  
> 
> heh, u fucked up on your quad.
> 
> gonna beat u in no time, just watch me whiskers~
> 
>  
> 
> whiskers, answer your phone. i know ur there
> 
>  
> 
> chrisTOPHE
> 
>  
> 
> TOPHE
> 
>  
> 
> ur name is so dumb
> 
>  
> 
> chrisTOPHER, u gopher
> 
>  
> 
> answer ur phone dick

 

 Chris chuckles, deciding to stop while he’s ahead.

* * *

Chris counts the seconds until JJ’s mouth crashes into his own.

Chris can feel that mad grin cutting against his lips, sharp and lethal. They go careening into the door with such force the hinges rattle and Chris’s breath leaves him in a dazed rush as his back meets solid wood, feeling his blood sear as JJ’s body follows and presses along his own.

At once, Chris’s thighs find themselves wrapped around JJ’s waist, squeezing him as close as possible because he needs it--missed how his body moves when JJ gets his hands on him. Those hands are broad and impossibly warm even through the material of his track suit, fingers splaying wide as they run up the length of Chris’s toned thighs, all the way back until greedy handfuls are cupping his ass, squeezing and kneading in turns.

Chris arches into the touch, breaking the kiss with a gasp as the back of his head hits the door with a solid thump, a exhilarated moan leaving his lips. JJ is already so hard against him, thick and scorching where his own cock lines up and rubs against Chris’s.

They’re still in the hotel hallway, rutting against each other in a quickening rhythm, where the possibility of someone seeing them only makes their passions burn hotter. JJ’s mouth attaches to the underside of Chris’s jaw, sucking at that sensitive spot that has Chris mewling, long lashes fluttering closed as the sensation shoots directly down into his cock.

“You're so fucking hot for it,” JJ murmurs on the shell of Chris’s ear. His voice is rich and warm; that particular baritone JJ only seeps into when he’s either furious or turned on and Chris is so fucking weak to it. Chris groans his answer, unzipping JJ’s sports jacket to get to the thin cotton shirt that resides underneath. His hands slip under the material, feeling over abdominals that jerk then tremble under his touch.

JJ’s breath comes quicker and he bites at the pounding pulse jumping in Chris’s neck.

“Get the key card out of my pocket before we get arrested for public indecency.” Chris demands. He’s solely concentrating on trying to get JJ’s shirt under his armpits so he can tease and pinch at his nipples instead of begging JJ to fuck him right out here in the hallway.

JJ grunts in frustration when he can't find the key card after the first two tries. He has trouble balancing Chris’s weight with one hand while searching his body with the other.

“Easier said than done,” JJ husks, brows furrowed in aggravation as he pats over Chris’s various pockets coming up empty. “Where the fuck is it? In your ass?”

Chris snorts, lips curving in amusement. He wraps his arms around JJ’s neck, biting playfully at JJ’s bottom lip and giving it a tug, watching with lowered lids as JJ’s mouth goes lax with pleasure.

“Only one thing is going into my ass tonight.”

JJ’s eyes are bright as they turn on him, grin lecherous and knowing as he licks over his lips in a slow, considering pass.

“Oh yeah? Don't count on just that.”

“Well I won't count on anything if you can't get the door open.”

JJ scowls at him, a precious little pout that looks every bit of his nineteen years. Chris’s heart does a interesting pitter patter in the face of it, despite the warnings he’s given himself continuously about this being anything other than what it is--a good, satisfying fuck when they’re both aching for it.

“Check my back pocket,” Chris hints, nipping at the defined jut of JJ’s jaw, licking and sucking at a spot he knows gets JJ weak in the knees when it's exploited. He grins, smug, when JJ’s breath hitches, groaning in tortured appreciation a moment later, clutching at Chris’s hips for support.

“I already checked there,” JJ huffs, practically whining, but still follows the suggestion. He shifts Chris around awkwardly until he has the key card in his hand, slotting it in the mechanism that beeps bright green and allows them in with a quiet _click_.

JJ’s grip on his thighs remain sturdy as they barge into the room, the sound of their kissing loud and wet. Chris can't help but moan into it. JJ spins them around and falls back onto the bed. Chris bounces on top of him as they settle, disrupting various pillows and throws that fall onto the floor in a heap.

All at once, hands are tearing at clothes.

Chris pulls JJ’s jacket off his shoulders and helps him take off his shirt while JJ tries to do the same. Chris pauses to appreciate and catch his breath; JJ is gorgeously built, strong and fit, oozing pure masculinity that Chris wants to taste along the flat of his tongue. The tattoos on JJ’s biceps only add to his overall rugged charm and Chris _wants_.

" _Fuck_ ,” Chris says, roughly shoving JJ back onto the bed, running his hands greedily up toned abdominals that dance under his touch. It’s only natural for Chris’s hands to make quick work of JJ’s pants, pulling out his cock, the weight of him heavy and thick inside the loose fist of Chris’s hand as he begins to stroke. “Fuck, yes.”

“ _Oh_ _shit,_ ” JJ gasps in surprise, throat working as if to swallow back his sounds. His head rolls against the bedding, lashes fluttering as the heat of Chris’s hand slides along his cock. JJ grows in Chris’s hand steadily, filling the empty space of Chris’s loose fist until his grip is tight enough to become agonizing. JJ growls and looks at him with accusing eyes when Chris runs his thumb along the sensitive seam of his frenulum, watching with satisfaction at how the head flushes a deep, rosy red from his attentions.

“It looks like you’re about to burst…” Chris comments, taunting, watching JJ from underneath the fall of his lashes.

JJ rises sluggishly on his elbow.

“Mmm, all the more reason for you to get naked and sit that fat ass on my dick, don’t you think?”

Chris laughs loudly, smiling wide despite himself as he leans down and shares with JJ a slow, lingering kiss that heats the room several degrees.

“Such a way with words, such eloquence; a true poet--that Jean-Jacques Leroy.” Chris teases as he removes his hand and begins taking off his clothes. He bats JJ’s hands away when the younger man tries to assist him; Chris likes making his undressing a show, likes watching his bed partner want. He lifts out of his shirt in a slow body roll, revealing inches of his chest and shapely waist. He rises above JJ in motions as smooth and fluent as silk, taking his time slipping his pants and underwear off of shapely legs.

JJ watches it all with a rapt, dazed expression, biting his bottom lip into his mouth with an appreciative sound.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” JJ says, “I hate it.”

Chris hums low in agreement as he climbs on top of JJ, kissing him silent.

* * *

“Good?” JJ asks, pivoting his hips in and out slowly, allowing for Chris to adjust.

He’s so big; so long that Chris swears he feels JJ in places he didn’t know he had until JJ fucked him for the first time less than a year ago.

JJ is nothing but patient, allowing for Chris to get reacquainted with his girth and how full he feels in this particular position with his ass held so high in the air. Chris shivers with the intense sensations wracking his body, simply overwhelmed until he isn’t; he pushes back onto JJ’s cock gingerly, wanting to get his ass pounded.

“Yeah,” Chris answers hoarsely, looking back over the curve of his shoulder with demure eyes. “C’mon and give it to me.”

JJ huffs a strained laugh against his skin, biting softly along the hairline of Chris’s nape before he rights himself up onto his knees. The bed-springs creak softly under the new distribution of weight, and JJ’s hands find Chris’s waist, gripping taut at his hips where he pulls Chris back and begins to fuck him.

It’s so perfect that Chris can’t even see past the haze of mottled white that dots his vision; so perfect that the wet sounds of JJ’s skin slapping against his own makes Chris’s cock weep without him ever having to touch himself. JJ fucks Chris like how he needs; roughly, thoroughly, absolutely greedy with his want for him, threatening to burn Chris from the inside out.

The headboard begins to bang against the wall, a staccato that grows in rhythm, along with Chris’s own desperate shouts and pleas; a litany of utter filth, inspired from his deepest and darkest desires. He’s too euphoric to feel shy or self conscientious about it; knows from first hand experience that JJ won’t judge him like others have. Chris feels safe and accepted by that reassurance as he asks JJ to choke him.

“ _God_ \--fuck, _baby_ ,” JJ groans, slipping out of Chris’s body.

Before Chris can lament the loss of fullness and heat, JJ is flipping him over onto his back with an arousing show of strength, knocking Chris’s thighs apart and shoving back into his body with a moan. JJ fits a broad hand around Chris’s throat, applying gradual pressure around the blood vessels that supply Chris’s brain oxygen. His moan is weak and frail, eyes rolling up into his skull as JJ resumes fucking him senseless.

His cock remains untouched, lies hot and red against his stomach, moments from orgasm. Chris claws at JJ’s back with the blunt of his nails, feeling his balls draw up, getting ready to burst.

“You gonna come gorgeous?” JJ pants. “You gonna bust on my cock?”

Chris can’t answer him, his very breath stolen, so he nods his head eagerly mouthing the word, _yes_.

“Then fucking look at me, slut,” JJ says, and Chris can tell he’s close too.

His mouth parts on a silent scream, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes because it feels so good, possibly even better than skating on the ice, adrenaline running through his veins as the audience cheers and shouts their adorations for him.

Chris feels like he might break apart into a bunch of tiny pieces in the face of it.

One hand leaves the underside of his knee to entangle in Chris’s hair, but the rhythm of JJ’s cock never falters, a continuous in and out that only intensifies and quickens.

The hand on Chris’s throat releases when he’s almost purple in the face, close to passing out from the lack of air and pleasure. Chris gasps like he’s breaching water for the first time, slamming his hands back onto the rocking headboard for something to steady him and keep him afloat.

JJ fucks these small, needy noises out of Chris’s throat; a chant of _uh uh uh_ that rises in volume until Chris’s voice cracks and he’s coming, gradually at first, then all at once. His entire body shakes, his back arching higher as he scrapes his nails down JJ’s biceps, leaving red, raised marks as he sobs, head thrown back in utter bliss.

“Fuck,” JJ curses, thrusts growing jerky and less coordinated. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot. Feel you coming for me. _God yes_.”

JJ is not far behind as he bucks against Chris’s hips, crushing his body into Chris’s own as if to melt them together indefinitely. JJ stills, mouth opening agape as he empties a warm, wet heat that reaches impossibly deep inside of Chris.

There are soft words mouthed against the shell of Chris’s ear as the initial rush and thrill die down for the moment, leaving them lazy and lethargic, communicating in slow blinks and the brush of fingers against damp skin.

 _I’ll get up in a moment_ , Chris promises, but is caught captive by JJ throwing his arm over Chris’s chest as he settles into his side of the bed, sleep itching at him.

It's a silent demand that Chris all too easily complies with.

 _He practically fucked my legs out from under me and I'm exhausted_ , Chris tries to rationalize. The thump of his heart however tells a different truth.


End file.
